


Battle Cry

by freetobeyouandme



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dean Winchester Bears the Mark of Cain, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 06:11:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4424375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freetobeyouandme/pseuds/freetobeyouandme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say the best things come out of our darkest moments. <br/>Dean wakes up from a terrible nightmare to be met face to face with a certain angel--confessions ensue. <br/>(Angst with a fluffy ending)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Battle Cry

Dean felt his knees give. It couldn't be--he couldn't have...  
But there lay the proof before him, in the hunched and bloody form of his angel. Cas' trademark trenchcoat was drenched in crimson, all sourcing back to the ugly hilt protruding from his stomach: The First Blade.  
Horror was a cold tidal wave though Dean's chest, seeming to seep into his very soul--or what was left of it, anyway. His heavy gaze wandered down to the pulsing Mark on his forearm. Cain had been right. The evil thing had taken over him completely.  
Dean choked back a sob as the full weight of what he had done hit him. "Cas..." he whispered wretchedly, gathering the limp body of his angel in his arms. "Cas!" His whisper turned into a shout as he shook his friend frantically. "Wake up, you son of a bitch," he said viciously, taking Castiel's face between his bloody hands. "Wake up!" he cried, dropping his head into the crook of the angel's neck. "No," he muttered, "don't leave me. I need you, buddy." Dean held on tighter, pulling back to look into those beautiful ocean eyes, wanting them so desperately to light with recognition.  
But they were empty.  
And something in Dean snapped.  
A sob wrenched out of his throat, raw and painful. He had done this. He had murdered his angel, just like he got everyone he loved killed.  
He killed his angel.  
His angel.  
His Colette.

Agony was too small a word to describe what Dean was feeling. It was as if every pore of his body--every goddamn cell--was being ripped away from each other. His soul ached to see those blue eyes filled with life again.  
"Come back, Cas."  
Except this time he knew he wouldn't.  
"I need you."  
And he knew it was true. He needed Castiel, his angel, like he needed oxygen: a pure, clear wanting. He never wanted to admit it to himself, but now he wished that he had.  
"I--I love you, Cas."  
It's too bad the words were too late.  
He could still hear Cas' voice in his head, soft and insistent. It repeated his name, growing stronger and more panicked with each time. "Dean. Dean. Dean!"

 

"Dean...dean!"  
Dean Winchester opened his eyes.  
He was drenched in a cold sweat in his bedroom in the bunker, legs tangled in the sheets. He had thrown off the rest of his covers. The room was dark and cool, as it always was, but Dean felt like he was on fire. His heart was pounding against his ribcage like a racehorse, rhythmic and insistent and way too fast. He pushed himself onto his elbows, looking up to see--  
"Cas."  
His whisper sounded desperately relieved even to his own ears. Cas was sitting on the edge of his bed with a hand on Dean's shoulder, his eyes heavy with concern. He tilted his head in slight confusion in a way that reminded Dean of long ago, when humans and their antics were a mystery to him in his angelic grace.  
"I came in to check on you and you were thrashing around in your sleep..." Cas said, a little nervous for a reason he couldn't quite put his finger on.  
"Cas. God, man, you have no idea how good it is to see your face." Dean choked out a laugh, shaking his head to try and rid himself of the horrifying dream.  
"You seem upset, Dean."  
"I love you." He blurted.  
Dean's heart picked up. He sat up, and now his face was mere inches from the angel's. Castiel, still not quite understanding the aspect of personal space when it came to Dean, didn't move away. He nodded, expression not changing much. "I love you too, Dean."  
"Not...not in the way you're thinking. Not like the way I love Sam, and not like the way I love Charlie. It's different than that." Dean whispered, closing his eyes.  
Cas just looked at him.  
Dean let out a shaky breath and his gaze locked with Cas'.  
"I guess I just have to show you, then."  
Dean leaned forward and pushed his forehead against Cas', his breathing labored. Closed his eyes. He could do it. He wasn't scared.  
He was terrified.  
Cas swallowed hard and gazed at Dean with a dawning sense of understanding and wonder.  
He slowly lifted his hand and rested it against Dean's heart--it was hammering. Castiel looked at Dean, and Dean looked at Castiel. He took the older Winchester's hand and rested it over his own heart, which was also pounding.  
No more needed to be said. Something unspoken and powerful thrummed between them, something that both had been doing their best to push away.  
They moved at the same time, kissing with a kind of urgency that screams of making up for lost time. Dean felt butterflies the size of birds in his stomach. He let out a soft sigh against Cas' mouth as he pushed closer, wrapping a strong arm around the angel's lower back to pull him in. Cas responded in kind, trailing his hands across Dean's chest and back and shoulders in a way that was worshipping. "I love you too," he gasped in between kisses, pushing Dean onto his back. "God, I love you."  
And for the first time in a long time,  
Dean Winchester felt whole.


End file.
